Romance Without Words
by mk17design
Summary: Sometimes, you don't have to say it out loud. Drabbles from The Marauders' time, mostly featuring JP/LE and SB/RL.
1. Chocolate

[01. SB/RL]

* * *

><p><strong>Chocolate<strong>

_Dark chocolate is healthy_, he always said, _so no harm in eating lots of it._

That time, I scoffed. _That's not even sweet,_ I replied.

_Really?_ he smiled, popping a piece into his mouth. _Have you tried it?_

I laughed. _I don't need to. It looks bitter._

The taste of his lips afterwards proved me wrong.


	2. Of Pages and Petals

[02. JP/LE]

* * *

><p><strong>Of Pages and Petals<strong>

_I'm not a flower person,_ I told him, frowning. _And I don't like roses, so you can take those away and scram._

_You're not a flower person_. He repeated. _You're also not a tea person, and definitely not a music person. Just tell me what the bloody hell you get along with._

I stared. What could make the obsessive twit leave me alone?

He grinned. _Come on, make me day just this once. _

_Books._ I said. _I get along with books. Thick books that have lots of words.  
><em>He was not a book person. I smiled. He would not touch a book if his life depends on it.  
>I walked away in a victorious mood.<p>

The next morning, he showed up with more flowers.  
>Different flowers.<br>Lilies, I subconsciously recited, Lily of the Niles.

_Well, a book says these are Lily of the Niles, but of course you already know that. _He said, a handsome smirk plastered across his face. _The book also says this flower means 'love letters'. So THIS,_ he shoved the flowers to my hands rather unceremoniously, _is lots and lots of words._

I gaped.  
>No snide remark came up to my head as he grinned and turned on his heels, walking away in a victorious mood.<p> 


	3. Butterfly Effects

[03. guess who these are. Correct answer gets to pick the next prompt. Requests will be closed when chapter 4 is up.]

* * *

><p><strong>Butterfly Effect<strong>

Hi!  
><em>Er. Hi.<em>

Where are you heading?  
><em>Meet – I mean, the library.<em>

You do realise the meeting's five minutes away?  
><em>Yes, in fact I do. It's just – I have to return –<em>

...you know, you've got to stop doing this.  
><em>Doing what?<em>

Avoiding me.  
><em>I'm not –<em>

Oh come on, I don't need a genius to tell.  
><em>I just – I – I can't do this.<em>

Why?  
><em>I can't do this to him.<em>

Oh, don't. If you're talking about that friend of yours –  
><em>He likes you and you know it. He practically –<em>

– throws himself at me. I don't like it and he knows that all too well.  
><em>And he likes you too much to give up.<em>

What is it with you and those two?  
><em>He's my friend. He's their friend, too.<em>

Is he blackmailing you?  
><em>No.<em>

Do you hate me?  
><em>What – no! Why would I?<em>

Then why are you doing this? Why do you have to stick up for such an arrogant –  
><em>You'll see.<em>

What?  
><em>In time, you'll see why we stick up for – what's that you were saying?<em>

An arrogant prat.  
><em>Yes, that. Him.<em>

You're not him.  
><em>And he I. Just... give him a chance, will you?<em>

...  
><em>Please. <em>

I'm not doing this for him.  
><em>I am forever indebted to you.<em>

I'm going to regret this, aren't I?  
><em>...<em>

Well?_  
><em>_...did you say the meeting's in five?_

Changing the subject, aren't we?  
><em>I don't know what you're talking about.<em>


	4. Torn

[04. SB/RL - prompt: "books", requested by siriuslybigfanofhp]

* * *

><p><strong>Torn<strong>

You can't be serious.  
><em>Why?<em>

Because it's a crime, that's why!  
><em>It's just a book, mate.<em>

It's a crime _because_ it's a book, genius. MY book. You can't just ruin my book and not expect me to say anything about it!  
><em>It's one tiny rip on one page –<em>

Still!  
><em>Alright, alright! I'll buy you a new one, just don't –<em>

Oh, sod off. I should've known.  
><em>You can't tell me to – wait. Know what, exactly?<em>

That you think you can go ruining others' books and escape unscathed!  
><em>When did I – ?<em>

Just because you can always afford a new one every single time –  
><em>What are you – <em>

— you just don't give a damn about the owner anymore, do you?  
><em>Whoa, wait a second!<em>

If you think you can –  
><em>Oi!<em>

– what?  
><em>Are we still talking about the book?<em>

...  
><em>I knew it.<em>

Shut up. You're fixing it.  
><em>Tonight?<em>

I said shut up.  
><em>Tonight it is.<em>

* * *

><p>By the next morning, the ripped page was not the only thing mended.<p> 


	5. Train Ride

[05. JP/LE - prompt:"Hogwarts Express", requested by Lizzy0308]

* * *

><p><strong>Train Ride<strong>

He hated train rides.

Train rides are crowded, noisy, and stuffy.  
>For an eleven-year-old whose vision depends on a pair of glasses, it was not easy having adults elbowing their way through and knocking him off.<p>

That one trip his father made to 'introduce the ordinary people way of living' was enough to make him swear not to ride on a train ever again. Not if his life depends on it.

But when he got his letter of acceptance to the school, he felt cheated.

_King's Cross Station_, he recited dully. _Whose idea was it to take the ordinary train when we've got more efficient ways to travel?_

On September the first, however, he met his first friend on the train he condemned – the one that turned out to be his best friend later on.  
>On that train, he met a certain redhead. She was the most amazing person he had ever laid his eyes on – the one that he would not give up on.<p>

And on that train, he realised that some train rides are quite bearable.


	6. Seen and Unseen

[06. SB/RL - prompt: 'camera', requested by TechNomaNcer28]

* * *

><p><strong>Seen and Unseen<strong>

_An ordinary photograph does not have objects moving inside._

It was such a difficult concept to understand for a boy who spent his life in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Not so difficult for the other boy who spent his life juggling the normal half and the not-so-normal half.

_People get all stiff and they will get bored, therefore they move_, the first boy with black hair said, flailing his hand animatedly as if it would help him explain his point, _there is no way they don't move at all. What would they do if they don't move?_

The second boy, the one with light brown hair and smaller figure, stared. _It's not like they're alive, you know, _he replied as he lifted the book to his face and continued reading.

_But... but they are! What's the point of a camera if it doesn't capture you the way you are now? _He yanked the book impatiently from his friend's hands, earning a death glare before having it grabbed back.

_If you don't mind, I'm trying to read here! And you know moving pictures can't be that interesting. We have televisions for that._

The black-haired boy stopped for a second before he shrugged. _I'll pretend I know what a tevithingy is, and – _he reached across and lowered the book again. _We're getting your photograph taken._

_I already have – would you please get your hands off my bloody book!_

_With the normal camera! Not that abnormal thing that produces boring, immobile pictures! That way we can all see what your picture is doing when he's in there!_

The second boy huffed in resignation._ If I say yes, will you let me finish my book?_

_I'm not asking you to._ The taller boy grinned mischievously. _This is a pact, my friend. We're getting that shot tomorrow._

The other boy blew the bangs off his face and rolled his eyes. _I knew it was a mistake the first time I said it._

* * *

><p>After hours of debates, a picture of the two friends was taken by the next day.<p>

Most the time, the picture showed a picture of one tall and handsome boy with black hair.  
>The boy in the picture kept yelling at the left corner of the picture and tugging at a scarf whose owner refused to show between the white borders.<p>

Every night, however, the picture showed two person for a few seconds.  
>The black-haired boy, who slept in the middle of the photograph with his mouth open;<br>and the other boy, who came near, threw a blanket over the sleeping boy, and retreated back to the left corner.


	7. inhuman

[07 you know who they are ('w') for HermioneGrangerisME with no requested pairing/prompt in particular.  
>Also, I put up a curious poll in my profile page, go vote when you got the time!]<p>

* * *

><p><strong>inhuman**

She did not judge.  
>It was all he needed to stand, like a human.<p>

She did not fear.  
>It was all he needed to look, like a human.<p>

She did not lie.  
>It was all he needed to talk, like a human.<p>

She did not hate.  
>It was all he needed to feel, like a human.<p>

He was not a human.  
>It was all he needed to smile, and whisper – <em>I'm sorry.<em>


	8. Trick or Treat

[09. SB/RL  
>I've taken and finished two prompts in one go, but it ended up almost 1000-word long so I posted it as a new story.<br>To whiterabbit111 and JJLiberty, please check the new story "Perharps" in my profile :)  
>For now... Happy Halloween guys!]<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Trick or Treat<strong>

The sky was still dark when a voice woke the whole dormitory.

_TRICK OR TREAT!_

Inside one of the four-poster, a skinny hand reached out of a lump of blanket, fumbling. When the disembodied hand found a watch resting on top of a trunk, it took the watch and retracted back in.

The owner of the tactless voice wrenched open the drapes covering the lump of blanket from view and pounced upon it, laughing loudly. The lump of blanket let out a muffled _Oof._

He bounced on the lump, his black hair still tousled and his pyjamas wrinkly. _Morning, mate!_

The lump curled under him and muttered something that suspiciously sounded like _'itsthreeinthemorning, youbloodyberk'._

_But it's Halloween! _He pulled the corner of the blanket, revealing bits of light brown hair poking out. _Where's your sense of fun?_

_...killedit._

Other voices started to mumble furious things across the room – a sign of people stirring against their will. The boy resting on the lump grinned, apparently satisfied by the result of his doing. _So, trick or treat? _he repeated.

_...nothingonmyperson._

His grin grew wider. _You watch your back today, then, my perfect Prefect._

The lump of blanket huffed as the weight on him lifted. A second later, a yelp of pain came from another four-poster as the springs on the bed creaked under the said weight.

_TRICK OR TREAT! Your glasses' life is at my mercy!_

The lump of blanket spat the watch back out and gave a sleepy chuckle. It went still and silent again within two minutes.

It was after he heard a low crack of a blunt object hitting something hard and a loud _OW!_


	9. Eyes of The Beholder

[09. JP/LE]

* * *

><p><strong>Eyes of The Beholder<strong>

Sunlight has penetrated into the crimson-decorated common room when a girl of seventeen found herself waking up with her head resting on a parchment.

She shifted.  
>Her back was less than comfortable, obviously a result of spending the night on a chair with her face on the table.<p>

So much for pulling an all-nighter.

She blew a stray lock of red hair off her face and lifted her head off the table, rubbing her face absentmindedly. Straightening up, she sighed and looked at the mess under her nose.

Opened thick books were scattered across the table.  
>She remembered borrowing them the previous day from the library.<p>

Rolls of parchments with diagrams and scratched writings were practically all over the table _and_ the carpeted floor.  
>She remembered working on her essay.<p>

Ink blots on some of the parchments and a splatter on the table.  
>She did not remember spilling the ink.<p>

She stretched her hands. Her eyes widened, the bright green irises glinting in the now-bright room. There were ink blots on her fingers, on her palms, on her wrist, on her sweater, and –  
>She remembered rubbing her face.<p>

Shoot!  
>She must have looked like hell... Now she had to go and wash before somebody –<p>

_Good morning._

The voice sounded so close she jumped in surprise.

She turned in time to see the familiar hazel eyes looking back from behind a pair of glasses. The young man standing behind her grinned mischievously as she flushed, expecting a lifetime worth of laughter.  
>Instead, he bent down to kissed her forehead and said,<p>

_You look beautiful._


	10. The Bipolarity of Things

[10. SB/RL]

* * *

><p><strong>The Bipolarity of Things<strong>

It was never easy to see someone he cared about lying half-dead in a hospital bed, leave alone having it every month.

It was not the sight of blood and bandages.  
>He had had his share of both due to his knack of troublemaking.<p>

It was not the sting of potions and remedies.  
>He had had his share of scrubbing the dungeon floor due to detentions for the problem stated before.<p>

No, none of those things scared him.  
>What scared him was the gut-wrenching meaning of what they were.<p>

Every month, the blood and bandages reminded him that they were not immortals.  
>No matter how much he denied it.<p>

Every month, the sting of potions and remedies reminded him of how much pain that person was suffering.  
>No matter how much that person denied it.<p>

* * *

><p>At the same time, though, the same things brought him a bit of relief.<p>

Every month, the blood and bandages reminded him of that person being human – an assurance that person had always needed to hear from him.

Every month, the sting of potions and remedies reminded him that it was only physical scars – nothing medicines could not heal.

No, none of those things scared him.  
>What scared him the most was the prospect of that person disappearing on him.<p>

* * *

><p>It was never easy to see someone he cared about lying half-dead in a hospital bed, leave alone having it every month.<p>

So every month, he had to see the blood and bandages, and feel the sting of potions and remedies.  
>But they reminded him of that person being there – simply being there in his sight.<p>

And it was all he needed to breathe again.


	11. Da Capo

[11. :) ]

* * *

><p><strong>Da Capo<strong>

A scream pierced through the darkness in the dormitory.

Three lads jerked their eyes open,  
>realising the sound came from across the room.<p>

_It's a nightmare,_ they said to themselves, _it's another nightmare._

Two out of three took a deep breath,  
>and told themselves that.<p>

So they put buried their heads into their pillows  
>and hope the scream will die soon.<p>

But the other one took a sharp breath,  
>and scrambled out of his bed.<p>

_It's a nightmare,_ he said to himself, _it's another nightmare._

So he ran across the room,  
>and slipped into the closed ward.<p>

There he found the younger lad,  
>sweating, trashing, and still screaming.<p>

He bit his lip at the sight,  
>almost too painful to watch.<p>

So he climbed onto the bed,  
>and cradled the younger one in his arms.<p>

_It's a nightmare,_ he said to the other, _it's just another nightmare._

Then he kept whispering, and he kept on whispering  
>until the trashing stopped, and the screaming stopped.<p>

The smaller figure shifted,  
>now breathing even.<p>

He did not move,  
>afraid to break something so fragile.<p>

_It's a nightmare,_ he whispered, _it's just another nightmare._

So he stayed,  
>and hoped that, one day, they would cease.<p> 


	12. What's In The Name?

[12. One of his many attempts to get rid of the disease.]

* * *

><p><strong>What Is In The Name?<strong>

_What is your name?  
>I don't have one.<em>

* * *

><p>The young man yelled in frustration.<br>The stupid book said that the first question asked is always the name.  
>If the person under hypnotism responded correctly, then you can proceed to the next question.<br>Or so it said.

* * *

><p><em>Then what does you mother call you?<br>__She doesn't._

* * *

><p>So he chucked the book to the wall and sat back down, facing a smaller boy that had been sitting in front of him for almost an hour in vain.<br>Theories! he cursed.  
>So he changed the question.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Why don't you have a name?<br>My mother said I don't need one._

* * *

><p>His forehead wrinkled.<br>It would take forever to get to the point.  
>...well, at least he got somewhere.<br>So he continued.

* * *

><p><em>Why does your mother say so?<br>She said only humans need names.  
><em>

* * *

><p>He raised his eyebrows.<br>The other person never said this before.  
>So, he pushed.<p>

* * *

><p><em>And?<br>She said I'm no human, so I don't need one._

* * *

><p>Something invisible and sharp pierced his chest.<br>So, he cried.


	13. I Scream For Ice Cream

[13. a little conversation between the gang leaders  
>ps. FF said I reached the maximum of 15 stories and I can't upload more. How to export the documents into stories?]<p>

* * *

><p><strong>I scream for ice cream<strong>

'Don't you want to settle down someday?'  
>'Why take all the fun?'<p>

'Explain.'  
>'That's like choosing one flavour of ice cream for the rest of your life.'<p>

'I'll pretend I get your insane logic just so I don't have to come up with a witty reply.'  
>'Just because you one Evans, it doesn't mean we all have ours.'<p>

'Name one flavour that you like.'  
>'What?'<p>

'I said, name one flavour that you like.'  
>'...chocolate?'<p>

'Well then I'm going to find you a Chocolate.'  
>'Did you just pronounced it with a capital C?'<p>

'Mark my words. We're going to find you settling with Chocolate someday.'  
>'Good luck with that.'<p>

It took quite a time to realise that Chocolate was never far away from them after all.


End file.
